St Valentine's Worst Nightmare
by lazyprojector
Summary: Jean does not care for sappy holidays, but that doesn't stop him from making the most spectacular surprise he can for his boyfriend Bertolt.


Most people know that Jean Kirstein hates Valentine's Day. He would correct them and tell them that he loathes Valentine's Day. He is not one for saccharine romance and cheap boxes of waxy chocolate. However, when the world gives you the lankiest and most adorable giant of a boyfriend that absolutely loves Valentine's Day like Bertolt Hoover, you will take one for the team and eat that cough syrup cherry cordial in the name of love as Jean has. Every single year, Jean has done his thing to ensure Bertolt's happiness on Valentine's Day, and this year was no different.

"Peche?" Reiner asked as he flung a report back onto Jean's desk.

"Yes, Peche," Jean said.

Reiner scratched his head.

"That place that politicians take their wives to when they've been caught cheating?" Reiner said.

Jean rolled his eyes and grabbed the report.

"Yes, that one. And it's not like everyone going there has that problem. Among other things, that place is known for its ambiance and fine cuisine- all of which will be perfect for a romantic evening," Jean said.

"I'm pretty sure Bert would have sucked your dick if you took him to the cheap ass, fake Italian restaurant and gave him a stuffed bear from the convenience store. Why throw money at a restaurant that gives you like a bite and then calls it a deal?" Reiner said.

"First off, it's called amuse bouche, and it's a complementary service meant to show off the artistic philosophy of the chef. Secondly, why am I getting shit for taking my boyfriend to a nice restaurant when you're taking your wife to the fucking sports bar for all you can eat wings so you can watch the hockey game?"

"Annie happens to share the same feelings I have about young men slamming into each other on top of samurai swords gliding across the ice. It's a very beautiful, artistic expression of masculinity. That's our kind of thing. Besides you make it seem like we're not going to be doing romantic things afterward. I'm positive that Annie's going to peg me tonight. She's been dropping the hints. Do you know how long it's been since she's done that? Too damn long. She has been withholding from me. I've been nursing a hard-on at the thought of her doing that like all day."

"Reiner, as much as I enjoy the adventurous nights you share with your loving wife, I am very serious about what is happening tonight with Bertolt. Every single year I have made Valentine's Day bigger and better than the last, and tonight is the dénouement."

"Shit Jean, I know we're fairly smart guys, but where the hell do you get away with just throwing 'denouement' into your fucking lexicon? Also what the fuck is better than the Valentine's spa weekend of last year? Getting a Mani Pedi and having sex in a giant ass bath with some lovely essential oils seems way more awesome than over priced scallops with veal au jus."

Jean slammed his fist at the table. He had known Reiner long enough to know not to tell him what he had planned for Valentine's Day because Reiner couldn't keep his face shut long enough to keep a secret. Enough plans had been spoiled because of Reiner's talent of over sharing. He pointed at Reiner, scowl on his face.

"If you fucking ruin this for me and Bertolt, I will never forgive you," Jean said.

"You sure about that?" Reiner said.

"I am so fucking serious that I will get you kicked out of this practice like you wouldn't believe."

"Shit. What is it?"

Jean scooted away from his desk and opened a drawer. He fiddled with a small black velvet box before he presented it to Reiner. He grinned as he saw Reiner's eyes widened.

"Wait… You're serious. You're gonna make Bert an honest man," Reiner said.

"If he says yes," Jean said.

"More like when he says yes. He's been wanting to get married for the longest."

"I know, but I get so crazy nervous about it. I've been in love with Bert since I first laid eyes on him. I really care about what he thinks."

"Well me thinks he's gonna give you at least two blow jobs tonight."

"Two? Reiner, I'm 35 not 16. I don't get it up like I used to."

"That's shame. You have a perfect penis."

"Reiner…"

"I'm just sayin'"

"Well, either way, this is happening tonight. I'm just going to lay it out there for Bertolt, and hopefully things go down well."

"I expect the deets."

"Of course you would."

"Annie likes hearing about you guys."

"Okay, okay. But only for Annie. And not because I'm terrified of her."

"It's okay to be terrified of her. I am."

"Let's not go down that road and say we did."

Reiner laughed and punched Jean in the arm. As he left, Jean opened the jewelry box and admired the beautiful and simple engagement ring he bought for Bertolt. He felt nervous just looking at, the knots in his stomach beginning to form. Reiner was probably right though. Bertolt would say yes in a heartbeat, but it didn't mean Jean didn't want every little thing to be perfect.

"I think… I think I look ridiculous," Bertolt said looking up at the restaurant entrance.

"Babe, you look wonderful," Jean said as he stood up to give Bertolt a peck on the cheek.

"Yeah, but I can't help but feel like I'm going to spill something on this shirt and jacket. Like I don't trust myself enough not to do that. Plus I think this is really expensive. You bought it for me for my birthday. So it has to be."

"It is, but I work the kind of job where we can buy Dior as we please."

"Is this Dior?"

"No, it's Tom Ford. Look that's not the issue. The issue is we have a reservation, and I'd love to keep it."

Jean pushed his boyfriend toward the restaurant's doors. Much to Jean's relief and despite knowing he had made reservations months ago, he found himself overly happy to be seated promptly at a perfect table with the perfect flowers across from his perfect boyfriend. Inside, he made each mental checkmark on the list of things that were going well. Hell, he was even pulled aside for a notification that there was a lovely bottle of fine champagne being chilled just as he requested. Jean Kirstein was conquering the behemoth known as Valentine's Day. That was true until the server came around.

"Thank you very much for coming to Peche on your very special night. Before we start the evening, may I interested you in any of the wines from our selection?" the server asked.

"Yes, I was wondering if you could recommend something based on this evening's menu…" Jean said.

Bertolt tugged on Jean's sleeve and shook his head.

"What?" Jean said.

"If you are planning on doing anything of a strenuous nature tonight, you might just want to skip the alcohol until we get home," Bertolt said.

"What?"

"I mean… we get tired after a drink or two when we're home, and red wine is like a tranquilizer to the face for me."

"Are you sure? You can have some white wine instead, and we don't have to get a bottle."

"Yeah but you know how I am about that…"

"Then no drinks?"

"Well you can get something for yourself if you'd like."

To Jean, there was not point in drinking without Bertolt, and Bertolt made his stance known. Jean sighed, so much for fancy drinks of any kind. He scratched his head as it hung in disappointment.

"Is there any sparkling water? I'll just have that," Jean said.

"Yes. Would you like a bottle?" the server asked.

"That's fine."

_Only slightly derailed_, Jean thought. He could work with this. As long as the rest of the night was perfect, Jean would not be having a panic attack. How could he when his lovely boyfriend was making the sweetest face as he ate one of the appetizers? In fact, Jean would watch this all night if he could. He was dazed and fixated on how everything else was going that he didn't notice someone was colliding into him until the very moment that person made contact with him.

"Oh sorry about that! I think I spilt some wine on your shirt… I'll pay-" the person said.

Jean's mind went into overdrive as he sought for a napkin and tried do something before the stain became harder to get out. Bertolt was reaching over for a glass of water to wet the napkin with.

"Jean fucking Kirstein?"

"Yeah… what's it to- oh shit."

There was no mistaking that voice this time. Jean knew that voice from anywhere. Bertolt knew that voice, and Bertolt became slightly worried and panicked. They both looked up at Eren Jaeger, one of Jean's old coworkers and rivals.

"Well, well, well, looks like they let horses into the finest restaurants in town," Eren said.

Bertolt grasped Jean's hand and squeezed it tightly. Jean looked at Bertolt who was mouthing the word "no" over and over.

"It was already enough that you had to spill wine on my favorite shirt, but you had to insult me in front of my boyfriend in public. You're in fine form Jaeger," Jean said.

Eren smirked and leaned in towards Jean.

"Well, someone has to take pity on you," Eren said.

"You take that back you shit faced bastard!" Jean said.

Bertolt covered his eyes. He probably should have stayed back; because knowing Jean and Eren, something was going to happen- something that would include colorful language and a few punches.

"This is escalating way too fast," Bertolt said.

When Bertolt uncovered his eyes, he saw Eren and Jean grabbing each other by the collar.

"Guys… can we just not do this here?" Bertolt said.

"Babe, I love you, but for your sake and mine, I'm going to teach this asshole a lesson," Jean said.

"Whatcha gonna teach me horseface?" Eren said.

"Some fucking manners asshole! Apologize to my boyfriend!"

"Jean, calm down," Bertolt said.

"I am calm!"

Beside Bertolt, a short man stood by watching Jean and Eren fight. Tapping his finger disappointedly on his arm, he looked over to Bertolt.

"It looks like a bunch of five year olds messing around at the playground. Which one's yours?" the man asked.

"The taller one," Bertolt said.

The man sighed as he approached Jean and Eren. Despite his size, he managed to get between Jean and Eren and pick them off from each other with the kind of ease most people wish they had.

"Look, as much as I like a fight between two grown men, this is not a fight, and this is not the place for whatever it is you two were doing. I'm not going to ask either of you about who did what because I'm frankly not interested. What I am going to do as the owner of this establishment is ask you to leave before I call the cops," the man said.

Bertolt nodded and dragged Jean out of the restaurant. He put his arm through Jean's and walked them a couple blocks through the city. He didn't say a word, and he didn't even look slightly upset at Jean. This was slightly scary to Jean. Bertolt was never one to betray his emotions, and not knowing what Bertolt thought made Jean anxious.

"I'm sorry," Jean said.

"Is that all?" Bertolt asked.

"I don't know what to say besides sorry. Like I'm sorry I ruined Valentine's Day, and I got us kicked out of the best restaurant in town. Now we can't even get into the second best restaurant, and I can't even get you a fucking pizza shaped like a heart because you actually have to pre-order that. I probably would have been better off taking you to the sports bar like Annie and Reiner."

"I don't want to go to a sports bar or to the fanciest restaurant in town if it means you're going to be sad. I just want you, and I want you to be happy. You always go out of your way to do these crazy things for me, but I honestly just want to be with you doing something we both enjoy doing. We could have had dinner at home with an okay bottle of wine, and I would have been the happiest man. I'm in love with you, Jean Kirstein, flaws and all."

Bertolt leaned in and placed a kiss on Jean's forehead.

"I didn't want to have that kind of food anyway," Jean said as he blushed.

"Then… how about we go to the gyro place down the block from home?" Bertolt said.

"The gyro place? Seriously?"

"At this point of the night, I think I get to do whatever I want."

Jean shrugged and went along with Bertolt's plan.

"As much I hate to admit it, this has got to be the best dinner ever," Jean said as he reached for another fry.

"Then I've done my duty as the best boyfriend ever," Bertolt said.

"Seriously…"

"Hey, I made you cupcakes this morning!"

"And they were amazing as usual. Along with that handmade valentine I found on the dresser. Is there anything you don't do perfectly well mon amour?"

"I thought we were waiting to talk dirty until we go home?"

"This is just part of the foreplay."

Bertolt laughed and smiled at Jean before he stole a fry from Jean's tray.

"Hey, that was mine!" Jean said.

"It looked so good babe. Just like you," Bertolt winked.

"Really?"

"What happened to the foreplay?"

"Ohhh… you want to play that game. Mr. I'm the best husband in the world," Jean said.

"Hus- Husband?" Bertolt said.

Jean just smiled to himself as Bertolt sat there slack jawed. Jean stole a fry from Bertolt's tray before what he said caught up with his mind. A fry dangled from his mouth before covered it with hand in disbelief.

"Shit…" Jean said.

"Shit…" Bertolt said.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Close your damn eyes Bertl!"

"Closing them!"

"Stop smiling like that!"

"I'm not!"

"Yes, you are."

"Do I have to remind you about what happened over an hour ago?"

"Okay, okay. You can open your eyes now."

Bertolt opened his eyes. Jean kneeled before him on one knee, holding a small box that filled Bertolt with the most indescribable joy. He had the answer Jean had been looking for over six years ago when they had first met; but looking at Jean open that box, Bertolt knew that this answer was stronger than before.

"Yes," Bertolt said.

"You sure you want to marry me?" Jean asked.

"I love you so much that there isn't any other way to answer that question."

Jean grinned widely as he leaned in to kiss Bertolt. As he kissed the most amazing person he could think of to share a night like this, Jean changed his mind. Perhaps Valentine's Day wasn't so bad after all.


End file.
